


Cinabunny Sunday

by Captain_Ammy



Series: Degrees of Isolation one-shots [6]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Sans is a loveable dork, there's a risque conversation in the beginning but its nothing too nsfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-09 19:45:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12895389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Ammy/pseuds/Captain_Ammy
Summary: The last of my Degrees of Isolation Undertale series, though ironically, it's the first one-shot I wrote back when I thought that I was gonna make this a Thing.Sans and Conarith go out on a date on a lazy day.





	Cinabunny Sunday

It was a lazy, rainy Sunday morning. Like many, the Dreamer household had taken to spending the day inside. In the living room, Frisk was eating a bowl of their favorite cereal and watching the Saturday morning cartoons that they recorded while at school. Toriel was reading her paper in her favorite armchair. Conarith was in the kitchen idly munching on some toast when her phone buzzed in her robe’s pocket:

_**Mr. Sanstastic: wanna hang out** _

Conarith smiled to herself and replied:

_**L** **ady Conarith: Dear sir, it is plain to see that it is quite wet out! Besides, I am hardly dressed.** _

_**MS: u keep talkin like that and “out” wont b the only thing wet ;)** _

Conarith blushed profusely at Sans’ response.

_**LC: Sans, you miscreant! Why must you always say such things?** _

_**MS: cuz u like it babe ;)** _

_**LC: I most certainly do not.** _

_**MS: u most certainly do** _

_**LC: You have no proof of such a claim!** _

_**MS: sure I do** _

_**MS: open the door and ill prove it ;)** _

Just then, the doorbell rang. Conarith gasped; surely, he was not actually already here?

“Frisk, could you see who that is?” she heard Toriel call. Frisk whined loudly, but otherwise complied.

“Oh, hey Sans!” Conarith heard Frisk say. She peeped out from behind the kitchen wall and, surely enough, saw the aforementioned skeleton standing in the doorway.

“Hey, kid,” said Sans as he ruffled Frisk’s hair. “May I come in?”

Frisk stepped out of the way, and then practically slammed the door shut before rushing back over to the television. Toriel voiced her disapproval before warmly greeting their guest.

“I didn’t expect to see anyone today,” she admitted. “It’s quite a slow day.”

Sans shrugged. “Yeah, it’s pretty bad out, but I’m not one to let that _rain_ on my parade.”

Toriel and Frisked laughed; even Conarith was having a difficult time restraining herself.

“But anyway,” Sans continued, “Conarith told me she wanted to hang out today, so here I am.”

“You scoundrel!” Conarith suddenly shouted from her place in the kitchen. “I said nothing of the sort!”

While Frisk was too absorbed in their show to pay her any mind, Toriel gave Conarith a speculating glance. Conarith just covered her mouth and ducked behind the wall.

Sans never missed a beat. “You probably just forgot, babe. But that’s ok; I’ll wait for you to get ready.”

Conarith folded her arms in a huff. She did not particularly want to go outside today. But then she sighed; on the other hand, she did not want to make a big deal out of the situation, and Sans knew it. Oh, how could she be so easily defeated?

With a groan, she stalked out of the kitchen and grudgingly made her way up the stairs to her room, trying her hardest to ignore the smugly grinning skeleton in the living room.

Whatever he had planned, she swore that it had better be good!

A short time later, after Conarith showered and tossed on some clothing she felt would be appropriate to wear out in the rain, she and Sans headed out into the cool, damp morning. The rain had long stopped, but even that was not enough to brighten Conarith’s dour mood. She adamantly stayed ahead of Sans as they walked down the village’s muddy streets, their destination yet to be determined.

Sans did not mind being left behind. After all, as much as he hated to see Conarith go, he loved to watch her walk away, especially when she was uptight. Her taut posture and hurried strides lent themselves very favorably to her swinging hips. And as well, he just so happened to be the perfect height to enjoy the show without him coming off as the lecherous rogue not many knew him to be. He was just a simple skeleton with his hands firmly in his pockets, staring straight ahead…

“I know that you are staring at my ass, Sans,” Conarith said suddenly.

“Well, it’s kinda hard not to,” Sans replied with a wide grin. “Maybe if you slow down, I could catch up and–”

“Where are we even going?” Conarith interrupted brusquely. “It is too soggy out for all this aimless walking!”

“I mean, you tell me,” Sans said with a shrug. “You were acting like you were going somewhere, so I followed. I just wanted to hang out; I don’t care where we go.”

Conarith scoffed and turned around. “Fine. I am going home.” She went to leave, but Sans grabbed her hand.

“Come on, babe; don’t be like that,” Sans pleaded. “I really wasn’t trying to trick you or nothing, I just wanted to see you, that’s all.” He rubbed his thumb along Conarith’s knuckles. “You know I like spending time with you.”

Conarith looked away in an attempt to hide her reddening face. “I understand, but I’d still like to get back inside.”

“Say no more; I know exactly where we can go,” Sans replied, and then set off in the direction of the Surface Town Shop Inn.

“Sa– Sans,” Conarith stammered as her face flushed even more, but Sans seemed to ignore her. Instead, he tightened his grip on her as he continued on his way.

Perhaps he should have let go, but this rare opportunity was one that he just could not bring himself to pass up. He had already made a habit of being bold with her, so he was not about to stop now.

The walk to the inn was short, so he only had a short time to savor the feeling of his bony fingers wrapped around hers. He was determined to remember every detail, every contour of her hand as it cupped against his own. He knew that she would not protest too loudly; he almost felt guilty at how much he was taking advantage of her acquiescing nature today. Almost.

“Welcome to the Surface Town Shop Inn!” the innkeeper, a pink female bunny monster said cheerily to the couple that had just walked through her door. “Would you two like a room? Only $30 a night!”

Conarith grew ashen when she realized where Sans was taking her. And now that she was here and standing alongside him, her hand firmly in his, she was positively mortified. She remembered the text that he had sent her; that salacious text! Is this what he had meant? Her mind was reeling and she felt sick; how could he trap her into this?

Sans felt Conarith’s hand go clammy and looked up at her to see that she was on the verge of tears. The lights of his eyes briefly went dark when the realization of what she most likely thought set in.

“Whoa, hey, no!” Sans exclaimed and quickly removed his hand from Conarith’s, his cheekbones dusted blue. “No, no, uh, we, uh, just wanted to lounge.”

Innkeeper giggled at the scene before her. “That’s perfectly fine! Just find a seat wherever and relax; I hope you enjoy your stay.”

Sans mumbled a short “thanks” before going over to sit in a comfortable-looking red sofa that sat directly in front of the large, brick fireplace off to the side of the inn; an upgrade since its humble beginnings in Snowdin. Normally, these accommodations were reserved for guests and potential-guests only, but on slow days such as these, the innkeeper was more than happy to allow people to loiter inside, provided they make a purchase.

When Conarith did not immediately follow him, Sans looked over to see that she was busy staring at her feet and fiddling with her ring, something she did when she was uncomfortable.

“Uh, babe?” he called. “Would you like to sit with me?”

Reluctantly, Conarith made her way over to the sofa and sat at the opposite end of where the skeleton was sitting. She did not look at him, opting instead to stare into the magical green fire crackling in the fireplace. Her face was completely expressionless.

“Hey,” Sans said awkwardly.

Conarith still did not look at him. Before he could say anything else, Innkeeper had enthusiastically shoved a room service menu on to them and told them that they came in at the right time; a fresh pot of coffee was just brewed.

“I’d like a cup, very light and very sweet with cream,” Conarith ordered, finally breaking her silence.

“Uh, same,” Sans muttered. He suddenly added, “Oh! Hey, can we get some of those Cinnabunnies?”

“Sure, if you’re willing to wait,” said Innkeeper. “My sister just put them in the oven a few minutes ago. 15 minutes, ok?” Sans thanked her, and she went off to go make their beverages.

“I know I said it before, but I’m really not trying to trick you into anything,” he said after the innkeeper completely disappeared. “I wouldn’t do that to you, y’know.”

Conarith sighed and offered Sans a watery smile. “I know, Sans. I know. It’s just…” She trailed off and looked down at her hands.

“Hey,” said Sans. He scooted closer to Conarith. “I’m really sorry about the hand-holding thing. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Oh no, do not apologize for that,” Conarith assured him. She turned sheepish. “I suppose it was not unpleasant.”

Suddenly, she grinned broadly and added, “But I must _hand_ it to you, Sans; coming here gave me quite a fright!” She giggled at her own joke with no care as to how silly it seemed.

Sans, too, grinned. Not just at the joke, but happily at the fact that Conarith was smiling again.

He shrugged lazily. “S’not my usual _hand_ iwork; I like to think I’m a more subtle guy.”

At this, Conarith burst into full-blown laughter.

“You? Subtle?” she exclaimed. “You’re about as subtle as a hurricane!”

“Pfft, whatever,” said Sans lightheartedly. “I’m way more subtle then that, like a hummingbird.”

“More like a rooster.”

“Subtle as a bubbling brook.”

“Yes…if one were drowning in it. You’re about as subtle as a bone to the face!”

Sans could not help but to laugh at that.

“You’re probably right about that one,” he admitted. He wrapped his arm around Conarith’s waist and pulled her close. “But, y’know I do try.”

Conarith was about to protest, albeit weakly, when the coffee came.

“Here you go, you two,” said Innkeeper as she put the cups down the table in front of the sofa. “I’ll be back with those Cinnabunnies the minute they’re frosted.”

Sans watched as Conarith grabbed her cup and daintily blew on the piping hot liquid. Watching her lips come together like that caused him to wonder what it would be like to kiss her.

“I know that the coffee is hot, Sans, but please compose yourself!” Conarith joked, jerking the skeleton out of his thoughts. He ignored this and went after his own cup.

“So what’s up with the pinky-thing?” he asked as he tried to imitate Conarith’s way of holding her coffee cup.

“The ‘pinky-thing’, as you so eloquently put it, is a dining etiquette from my world,” she explained. “It allows you to rest your cup back onto the table without making much noise, as your pinky will hit the table first before your cup will. It is quite useful, wouldn’t you say?”

Sans nodded and took a delicate sip from his cup in the same manner as his friend.

“Ah yes, quite. Good show,” he said pretentiously, earning himself a glare.

“Anyway,” Conarith drawled, deciding to ignore Sans’ teasings for the time being, “what in the world is a ‘Cinnabunny’?”

“It’s exactly what it sounds like, babe,” said Sans. He smirked mischievously. “A bunny stuffed with cinnamon, baked alive to preserve the flavor its terror gives it, and then smothered in icing to be consumed by the heartless creatures that captured it.”

Conarith just rolled her eyes at this obvious lie, causing Sans to laugh.

“No? Alright, fine,” he relented. “It’s just a cinnamon roll shaped like a cute little bunny. I figured you’d like it.” He winked at her. “A sweet for a sweet.”

Conarith sputtered in her drink and blushed.

“Sans!” she exclaimed. She could not help but to smile. “Oh Sans, you wretched thing, you! I’m going to tell Papyrus if you keep teasing me like this.”

Sans just beamed innocently before downing the rest of his cup. He did not particularly like the saccharine beverage that Conarith seemed to enjoy, but he was not eager to tell her that.

The fireplace had changed from green to the more traditional reddish-orange. Its soft glow highlighted Conarith’s skin in such a way that it made her seem even more ethereal than she already was. As Sans watched her finish her coffee, he thought back to the day they had first met. She was skittish and silent as she sat at Toriel’s dining room table, surrounded by creatures she probably never thought were possible. He remembered how loud and excited everyone was to meet this new addition to the Dreamer household: a magical princess from beyond the stars!

He remembered how she stole glances at him from across the table the whole night, secretly working up the nerve to speak to him. He remembered doing the same; one could never accuse him of being a shy man, but that night, he found himself reluctant to talk to her.

He remembered how loudly she laughed at his jokes, and how he kept belting them out just to hear her laugh again. It was well worth the scolding that his brother gave him afterwards.

He remembered the first time she said his name. He was always partial to it, and was rather thankful that people had yet to give a nickname that stuck, but there was something about the way Conarith said his name. She made it sound sophisticated, like it was always meant to sound that way.

_Sans…_

He smiled longingly; yes, exactly like that. He flinched when brown fingers suddenly snapped in his face.

“Earth to Sans!” Conarith exclaimed. “If you are quite done contemplating your navel, our Cinnabunnies are here.”

Sans silently cursed to himself; this was the third time he was being shown up today! Why was it so difficult to stay on his A-game around her?

Conarith eagerly snatched up her bunny-shaped treat and grinned at Sans, causing him to snicker. Ah, yes. _That_ was why.

“They smell so delightful!” Conarith said with great enthusiasm. She closed her eyes and inhaled the Cinnabunny’s sweet scent. “Oh, I hope they taste just as wonderfully.”

Now if there was one thing that Conarith was known for back home, it was “eating strategically”, as she liked to call it. To her, there was a proper way to eat any food so as to get the fullest force of flavor that it could offer. Conarith spent more of her time at the table planning how to eat her meals than she did actually eating them.

First, she observed the food, allowing her eyes to drink in what she was about to eat. Presentation mattered, and she was hard-pressed to eat something that looked unappetizing.

Next, she smelled the food. The nose knows, as she always liked to say, and her nose was her second line of defense when it came to discerning the good from the bad.

And finally, she tapped the food with either her utensil or her fingers. Using a criteria that only she knew, she felt about the food to figure out its weak point. As soon as she found it, that was where she took her first bite.

She was, needless to say, quite eccentric, and Sans loved her for it.

Using this tried and true method, Conarith figured out that the best place to start eating the Cinnabunny was the ears, and to work her way down, saving its plump tush for last. Satisfied with this strategy, Conarith picked up the roll and went to take a bite, but stopped at the last minute when a question she had yet to answer hit her.

“Damn,” she muttered. “Which ear should I go for, first?”

“Well, you know what they say, ‘Right is always right’,” said Sans in an attempt to help her.

“Right,” Conarith agreed. She bit off the right ear. Her eyes widened with delight. “Delicious!”

“Glad you like it, babe,” said Sans. He had his own method of eating these things: cram the whole thing in his mouth and hope that the sweet release of death took him before his mouth could protest that he was eating so much sugary crap in one day. He grimaced as he was forced to swallow it when he inevitably did not die.

But it was not all bad. Watching Conarith enjoy herself so much was well worth the shock to his system. Besides, it was not like he could not go home and down an entire bottle of mustard to make up for this. She was just having so much fun, how could he complain?

Yes, he would gladly eat a thousand Cinnabunnies just to watch Conarith eat one. A thousand Cinnabunnies just to watch her lick the icing from her fingers. A thousand Cinnabunnies just to curl up in her lap and lick the icing that had just fallen on her breast…

Conarith knew that Sans was staring at her; it was not just in jest when she called him out on not being very subtle. She, too, noticed the glaze that had fallen in a less than modest spot.

It was always such a funny thing, her relationship with Sans. She was not entirely sure what she was to him. It was quite obvious that he found her attractive; she never had a problem attracting men. But it was always the wrong kind of man. She would not go so far as to say that Sans was like those men; he was nothing but nice to her, and only occasionally naughty. He was definitely an interesting little fellow who made her life more colorful than it had ever been, even before everything that had happened to her.

Despite his shortcomings, Conarith did like Sans very much. And while she verbally expressed otherwise, she rather enjoyed his less than savory advances. The comments, the gestures, the texts, and even the rare touch; all of it made her heart race with excitement and desire. He made her feel so alive!

And yet, Conarith could never bring herself to act on these feelings. She made a vow that she would never ruin another friendship, and she could not lose Sans. Sans was everything she had ever wanted in a friend, everything she had wanted in a man. He was a monster, and yet he was more of a man than any she had ever known. He made her feel things that she wished she did not; he made her think and do things that made her feel so…

For goodness sake! She could not let him bowl over her like this!

But how could she help herself? She stared at him staring at her breasts and found herself yearning for him to do whatever it was he thought about doing to her at that very moment. Just a simple touch, a quick and gentle caress would have been more than enough. Though she would have loved to go back and change her past, she would be a liar if she ever claimed that she did not enjoy some parts of her affairs. To go from that to nothing at all for as long as it has been did not use to bother her so much, until she met Sans.

“Sans,” she blurted out, “could you get that for me?” The look of shock and embarrassment on Sans face made her regret the request, but she could not take it back now.

“Wh– What?” Sans sputtered.

She would not take it back.

“My hands are quite sticky,” Conarith explained. “Would you be a dear and just wipe that away for me?”

Sans hesitated, confused at this sudden request. Was this a joke? He searched her eyes for the answer, but they stared at him so intensely that he had to look away. She looked expectant, so perhaps she was being serious. But what if this was a trick?

“Please, Sans,” Conarith whispered as she scooted closer to him, her words pregnant with some other meaning. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Sans held his breath and reached his hand out to her. This should not have been as nerve-racking as it was; all he was doing was wiping away some gunk from his friend. He had teased her about touching her much more inappropriately in much less appropriate places, and yet this simple request had him breaking out into a cold sweat. Her staring definitely was not making this any easier.

“Any day now,” Conarith joked weakly. “I just don’t want to look but so ridiculous when I walk to the restroom.”

Sans did not respond. He was too busy concentrating on this simple task. With a quick, chaste swipe, he scooped the icing up with his finger. He allowed himself to exhale; finally, the deed was done.

But when he attempted to pull back his hand, Conarith had quickly caught his wrist. Before he could protest, she stuck the finger that he had used in her mouth and gingerly sucked away the sticky white confection.

The expression on Sans face was unreadable, but his cheeks were glowing with the deepest cyan anyone had ever seen.

“Ba– Babe?” he managed to spit out.

Conarith gasped and recoiled from the skeleton, her own face hot with shame.

“Oh my goodness; I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed. She jumped to her feet and bowed low. “That was so creepy of me; I wasn’t thinking! Oh Sans, please forgive me, that was just so…” She trailed off and scurried to the nearest restroom.

Sans just sat there, unable to process what had just happened. He understood that Conarith had just licked him, but…she licked him? What?

Dude, she licked you! But did she just lick me?

She licked me! But dude, did she just lick you? Holy shit!

 “Whoa,” Sans muttered to himself. Finally, it all clicked for him. Confusion made way for pride, and he beamed at the thought.

Conarith licked his fingers! Possibly erotically! He would conquer that mountain of a woman, yet! And with that in mind, he whipped out his phone and shot Conarith a quick text:

Mr. Sanstastic: u kno i wasnt talkin bout me before but its a start ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, thanks to everyone who stuck with me on this short (and admittedly straight-forward) ride. I hope you all enjoyed my first forays into writing after what was at the time a near decade-long hiatus. I like to think that my writing has improved since then, and even now since I wrote all of these in 2015-16, and I hope you'll join me on my next great adventure. As always, comments are appreciated, especially the "you fucked up and let me tell you how" ones.
> 
> On an unrelated note, I found out that "Negress" is one of the words "degrees" can potentially Google auto-correct in to. Really? Who's still using that word in 2017? Which ever Google exec manages to tell me first gets to live!


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